Blog

  • Fire

    Ratatatat
    My heart was burning with hatred.
    I released all my fury on the trigger.
    Bullets went through her.
    She was still standing in front of me, unharmed, smiling and teasing.

    How much I loved her. I couldn’t think of life without her.
    I had woven so many beautiful dreams around her.
    She also loved me, or so I thought.
    Until that day when I missed my train and returned back to the town,
    only to find her in the arms of this man.

    “Meet Rohan, my fiancé.”

    “But…”

    “You are still my best friend, Ajay.”

    The anger was unbearable. My heart was on fire.
    “Hold on Sergeant, this is only a dummy, you are just wasting ammo”

  • Song

    You will, won’t you?
    Won’t you sing my song?

    Written in the ink of love
    On the pages of my soul
    I have poured my heart
    I can not be all wrong
    Won’t you sing my song?

    Song of my love for you
    Whatever tune it may be
    Whoever plays the music
    I just want you to sing along
    Won’t you sing my song?

    These meaningless words
    Waiting for you to kiss them
    And give them your melody
    Haven’t they waited too long?
    When will you sing my song?

    You will, someday, won’t you?
    Won’t you sing my song?

  • My Wish

    I wish I could sing…

    but did not find a song

    I wish I could write…

    but did not find a story

    I wish I could fly…

    but did not find the wings

    I wish I could dance…

    but did not find the steps

    So many things I wished I could…

    but did not find the wishing well.

  • In Love

    I think I am in love.
    In love for the third time.
    First time it was when my uncle gifted me my first storybook, a famous five by Enid Blyton. I was just 11 years old. My love for books has never diminished since. Not even my love for Sandhya, whom I married after four years of a torrid affair, could lessen my first love. Whatever her hatred for books, she learnt to share her bed with my books.
    That was till Rags4u came into my life. We met in an online forum discussing books. She was a literature graduate doing P.G. and a bookworm like me. We shared all our knowledge of books. She had a great collection of classics. We talked about fiction, dramas, poetry, genres of literature, Ayn Rand, Harper Lee, Lawrence, Huxley. When at home I used to think about which book should I discuss with her, when at office I used to rush my work so that I may sit at my PC.
    I was feeling so good that Sandhya asked one evening why was I so excited these days. “I am in love with Rags4u,” I told a confused Sandhya, ” Well not that I don’t love you, you are my life, but I cant imagine a day without talking to Rags4u. I feel great when I see her online. Whenever I read a good novel I want to share with her. I think this is love, platonic love, Sandhya”.

    She was smiling. I think she has understood me. After all she is my second love.
  • Body

    “To Ramu I give my farms, for his selfless service”
    Late Babu Roshan Lal, freedom fighter’s will was being read out,
    ” to my son, rest of my property. My eyes be given to the Eye Bank, and my body to the KGMC, for the benefit of the medical students.”

    “Hey RK, look at this body allotted to us. The old man has no eyeballs.”
    “Must have been ogling at some gal, who gouged his eyes”
    “Lets play a prank, cut his dick and gift it to Chakku darling, she is acting so pricey with us.”

    Thus lay the body of Late Babu Roshan Lal, Freedom Fighter, on the marble slab, eyes gouged, organs mutilated and his pride, humiliated.

  • Pain

    Please…Abir

    Not today

    I am tired

    Tied to the bedpost

    Her wrists ached.

    Thrash…

    Blood oozed

    From the corner of her lips

    I am your wife

    You don’t have to force.

    He started whipping madly

    With his belt.

    It hurts ..Abir

    I beg of you..

    Tears rolled down her red cheeks.

    .

    You Bitch…

    I love the way

    You cry and beg

    Your Pain

    Is

    My Pleasure
  • Kiss

    Muaahhhhhhhh !!
    I could feel the warm thick betel juice trickling down my cheeks.
    She tightened her arms around me.
    You are choking me , I tried to squirm out, but by the time she planted another wet kiss on my lips. I could feel the sweet musty fragrance of saffron with a tinge of tobacco.
    Dadi leave me , I am not a kid now.
    Oh yes my Ram, my Kishan, Dabbo told me that you have become a big doctor now.
    At last, she let me go.
    Marry soon, I want to kiss your son before I die. And tell your wife I’ll beat her if it is a girl.
    She was very strong for an eighty year old. And she always greeted me with a forced kiss whenever I met her.
    How I hated her messy kisses.
    .
    .
    .
    The room was filled with fragrant smoke of guggul.
    I saw her sleeping on the mat. She looked divine.
    I bent over her and took her in my arms.
    Dadi, why don’t you kiss me today. Look I have my son with me too.
    I pressed my cheeks on her lips. They were cold.
    I tightened my embrace around her. She slipped away.
    How much I yearned for her kiss.
    A wet kiss filled with betel juice, smelling of saffron.

  • Surreal

    Jeeves, this morning I felt very what’s that word, it starts with an S and means dreamlike. I was woken by the sweet voice coming from the Radio. I looked at Her. She was smiling. I say she because she looked like Jayanti.

    Love you Rajat, she said.

    Shut up, I wanted to say, but I said cock-a-doodle-doo.

    What else can a chicken, which has been fed upon saffron and pineapple, say?

    I threw away my blanket and jumped out of my bed, or was it a pen.

    Ruffling a few feathers I reached her, and switched her off.

    Sun was shining through the window and I wanted to get out and you were blocking my way.

    Is it surreal you want to say, Sir!

    Yes that was the word, Surreal, but Why are you carrying that knife Jeeves?

  • Confessions of an Eve Teaser

    I was born and bought up in a family where Eve teasing was not a taboo. It was in fact a favorite activity during any family get together. My father had a natural ability to tease. And he had so many eves around him to tease. My mausi (mom’s sister), four mamis (mom’s brother’s wives) , my tai ji (his bhabhi), they all loved Dabboo Dada (my dad). The things he said to them, made them blush, though I could hardly understand the meaning at that time. Now when I recollect, I smile at the double meaning sentences he spoke, some times bordering to vulgarity. His was a Mazaak ka rishta with them, he told me.
    So teasing females came naturally to me. I used to tease my sisters till they wept. Throwing their dolls over the almira, drawing Kaajal mustaches over their faces while they slept, stealing their “Dear Diary” and then reading it aloud at dinner, were some of my favorite activities. My next target were the girls in my neighborhood. Making faces at them, tying their ponytails to the chairs, calling them names. They cried, complained to my parents, but then came again the next day to play with us. My dad told that teasing was a fun activity which promoted bonding .
    He said it unites people while embarrassing them and expresses affection though humiliation. Ironic, isn’t it !!
    Later through my psychology books, I learnt more about this behavior.
    Teasing has been described by psychologists as privileged disrespect, playful annoyance, and a mock insult. The contradictory nature of this word is best conveyed through its derivation. Teasing roots from the Anglo-Saxon word taesan (to tear apart) and the French word attiser (to make warm). Teasing ranges from playful joking to aggressive bullying and can be expressed both physically and verbally. While bullying takes the form of hitting, kicking and other violent behaviors, teasing is manifested through nicknames, facial gestures and taunting .
    Teasing is a pervasive activity that occurs in most group contexts including family, friends, coworkers and teammates. While teasing is commonly thought of as an ostracizing mechanism, new research has suggested that teasing actually facilitates bonds within a group and acts as an indicator of intimacy. While teasing is most prevalent among group members who are familiar with one another, teasing can be used among strangers to communicate friendliness and indirectly express affection. Thus, teasing can actually integrate the rookie by revealing both the norms of the group as well as the status of it’s members.
    So convinced that teasing is a harmless activity, I continued this habit of teasing my female classmates in my medical university too. It appeared that they enjoyed it too as they started calling me Mickey (Mouse).
    It never occurred to me that teasing, or rather eve teasing could be a crime. Until I read a news item about a girl, Sarika Shah. She , a student of Ethiraj College in Chennai, fell victim to eve-teasing in the vicinity of her college; she was manhandled and the injuries she sustained proved fatal. It was then that I realised eve teasing could be hurtful, humiliating and sometimes dangerous, even fatal.
    I was convinced that eve teasing is a menace which has to be tackled, but remained indifferent to the problem. That was till my daughter became a teenager this month, and the starting of Blank Noise Project in Lucknow. I know something has to be done. We can not remain a mute spectator any more. and BNP is the first step in right direction.
  • Blood

    She needs urgent blood transfusion, Rajat. But I think You will manage , with so many relatives gathered here to see her, just send them all to the blood bank for matching. Dr Mahajan announced in the waiting hall, coming out of the OR-2.

    -Yes Doc Saab, mine is O negative but some of them must be A positive.

    Doctor’s word had a magical effect. Soon they all started to leave the hall.Every one had some urgent work.Seema’s Uncle, My brother, our neighbour Joshi, her boss Mr Chaddha. I was standing alone thinking about how to arrange blood for my wife. A fresh donation from some close ones would have been better, but unwillingly I decided to buy from the private Blood bank outside the Hospital.

    -It will be three thousand for three units, and please wait for half-n hour. said the receptionist, adjusting her glasses. I took a torn magazine and sat in the lobby.

    -You are here again Raju! you sold one unit just last week.

    -What to do, sister, my wife is admitted and I cant pay her bills

    The receptionist looked at the beggarly youth and handed him a hundred rupee note

    -here’s for the today’s blood, but don’t come again in a month